much as anything.
Ellery nodded, all his earlier bravado now gone. ‘That’s about the size of things. You’ll need access codes for the doors but they’ll all be the same because the system is in evac mode. It’s star, four zeros then the hash key.’
Franklin nodded. ‘OK. You go organize your men to cover the exits. We’ll go in the front and try and flush him out.’
Ellery nodded and hurried away. Shepherd watched him go, taking in the crowd beyond him – the emergency vehicles, the shivering people – his senses made sharp by adrenalin and fear. In the distance he noticed that the trees were heavy with snow and what looked like black fruit. A car door slammed and the fruit took flight, rising in the air like a column of living black smoke, thousands of migratory birds flying out of season and resting on trees that had never known snow. Nature turned on its head.
End of days.
‘Ready?’ Franklin said.
No – Shepherd thought. ‘Yep,’ he said, turning back to the entrance and raising his gun.
‘Good, ’cause you’re on point.’ He stepped around and behind Shepherd so the front of his body was tight to his back – nuts to butts. ‘Cover and move,’ he murmured, ‘just like in Hogan’s Alley.’
Except the bullets are real – Shepherd thought. The bullets are real.
Then he stepped forward and opened the door.
Shepherd went in low, sweeping the entrance lobby from left to right while Franklin stayed high and swept in the opposite direction. It was exactly as he remembered it, a row of five chairs stretched along the far wall below a huge picture of the space shuttle, a water cooler in the left corner with a waste bin next to it half full of paper cups, a heavy door to the right with a thick window built in at head height and HazMat and Radiation symbols below it. Nothing else.
He stepped forward and moved across the foyer, heading for the door and repeating the training mantra over and over in his head: Check and move, check and move.
Franklin stayed close enough to make them a single entity with two sets of eyes and two guns.
Star, four zeros then the hash key. Through the door. It swung shut behind them with the suck of rubber seals, cutting off all sounds from outside. In the quietness they heard something new, a low, steady hiss as though a huge snake was waiting for them somewhere inside the building.
Shepherd stepped to the side of the door – gun in front, heart pounding – and scoped as much of the room beyond as he could through the small window. The gowning room was all white tiles, bright lights and shelves full of rolled-up suits and gloves. There were some full suits hanging like ghosts on the wall, which made his finger tighten on the trigger.
He glanced up at Franklin who had taken a position on the other side of the door. Nodded once. Reached out with his left hand and punched the code into the door. The lock clicked. Franklin twisted the handle. Shepherd pushed it open from the hinge and followed it low, just as before, left to right, corner to centre, while Franklin stayed high and swept the opposite way. A movement made Shepherd’s gun twitch round. One of the hanging suits had moved. He blew out a long breath realizing it was only the air from the opening door that had shifted it.
The hissing sound was louder now. It was coming from beyond the air shower that led into the main chamber.
They moved towards it, their shoes catching on the sticky mats there to pull impurities from the soles of lab boots before they entered the high-pressure air shower that would blast off the rest. Shepherd stopped as he reached the clear screen that marked the entrance. ‘Let’s go,’ Franklin said, joining him by the door and seeing there was nothing inside.
‘We should be suited up before going in there.’
‘Really?’ Franklin turned and opened the door.
‘Wait!’ Shepherd ducked in after him just as a tornado of wind rushed at them from all sides sounding like a thousand hand dryers going off at once. Franklin ducked and crabbed over to the far door, leading with his gun as if the noise was some kind of attack. The racket lasted for ten seconds then cut out. Franklin turned back to Shepherd. ‘What were you saying?’
‘Never mind.’
The window in the final door revealed little of the large chamber beyond. The entire upper part of the room was hidden behind a thick wall of white vapour, like someone had captured a cloud and was storing it here. ‘Helium,’ Shepherd whispered.
‘Poisonous?’
He shook his head. ‘There’s a danger of oxygen starvation if you inhale too much. Other than that it just makes your voice sound funny. It’s the same stuff you get in party balloons. Biggest risk is frostbite and cold burns. It boils at minus four hundred and fifty degrees Fahrenheit and in the pipes it will be liquid, so even colder. The Professor won’t be in there if it’s a liquid spill. Not unless he’s dead. No one can survive long in cold like that.’
Franklin smiled and stepped behind him. ‘You first.’
Shepherd looked again through the window at the gas cloud and took a breath. He felt the grip of the gun pressing into his palm as he held it tight in one hand and punched the code into the door with the other. The lock clicked, he pulled it open and stepped inside.
It was beyond freezing inside the room and the hissing was sinister and loud. Above him the underside of the cloud shifted as the opening door stirred the air, making it look like something was moving inside it.
He swept the room the same way as before. The vapour in the air reduced visibility but he could make out the lower third of the circular door to the vault in the centre of the room. This was where the hardware was tested and where the leak would most likely be coming from. He moved toward it, keeping low and well below the freezing cloud. It had been cold outside in the freak winter weather but nothing compared to this. His breath was frosting the moment it passed his lips. He glanced up at the thick cloud above his head, formed by the lighter than air helium filling the chamber top down like smoke. There was something wrong about it being there. He dredged his mind for what he knew about the facility. Fragments came back to him, bits of technical information about how it worked – then it hit him.
Laminar flow.
He looked back up at the cloud. The room kept itself clean using laminar flow, air blown constantly in parallel streams from top to bottom to sweep particles down to the filters in the floor. But the cloud was not being blown downwards. It just sat there, filling the upper part of the room with freezing vapour. He remembered how it had shifted when he had opened the door. There was no airflow in the room at all. Maybe it had been damaged by the leak. Maybe not.
He spotted something else that was wrong. In the clinical environment of the clean room, nothing should be out of place, everything had to be stowed away and locked down to prevent dangerous and potentially costly accidents: but there was a laptop lying on the floor over by the vault door. He moved closer to it, squinting through the thick air to get a better look. Shifting hardware in and out of the cryo unit was incredibly precise. Even a scrubbed glove could leave contaminants on a component, so it was all done by computer-controlled robotic lifting arms. The laptop was hardwired into the control panel of one of these. The arm was extended, the gripping claw disappearing into the dense cloud above his head. Shepherd took a step towards it, moving sideways to bring the screen of the laptop into view. There was a number on it, two zeroes followed by a one and an eight. As Shepherd watched, the eight turned to a seven. Then a six. Then a five.
Countdown.
He darted forward, grabbing one of the high-pressure hoses used to clean components and pointed it up at the cloud, pulling the trigger at the spot where the top of the arm had to be. The hiss of air joined the shushing sibilance